


Stress Relief

by walkwithursus



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frenemies, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, due to alcohol consumption, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus
Summary: Topher convinces Guillermo to 'unwind' over some hard ciders.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Topher
Comments: 25
Kudos: 42





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weirdbitterdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdbitterdays/gifts).



> Dedicated to weirdbitterdays, whose amazing Tophuillermo fic inspired me to write one of my own!

It was a Friday night like any other in the vampire household. Nandor, Nadja and Laszlo had gone out to hunt for victims, leaving Guillermo and Topher behind to tend to chores (or in Topher’s case, to slack off). 

As soon as the front door had slammed shut behind the trio of vampires, Guillermo had set to work, dusting the fancy room, the library, the music room, and the dining room before setting onto the uglier assignments of the evening. Donning his rubber gloves and work apron, Guillermo began the arduous bi-weekly task of cleaning the cell, which involved getting down onto his hands and knees and scrubbing the floorboards of dried blood spatter. 

It was nasty work. Through trial and error (and Google), Guillermo had discovered the best solution to clean old, dried blood with was white vinegar, which, while effective, was also gross. The harsh smell in the small, windowless chamber made him dizzy, as did the repetitive motion of working his arms back and forth. He tried to clean as quickly as possible, to get the whole thing over with, but despite his best efforts it still took time. Without another person around to help him, it took infinitely longer.

“Yo, G-Money.” 

Guillermo turned his head at the sound of another person's voice, pulling one headphone out of his ear. Nadja and Laszlo’s newest familiar had decided to make an appearance at last. Topher leaned against the door frame behind Guillermo, holding a case of beer aloft and grinning at him from under a mop of dirty blond hair. “Check what I got.”

Guillermo plopped his scrub brush back into its bucket and sighed. So far he didn't much care for Topher—in the month he'd known him, he found the man lazy, entitled, and at times downright mean. Even now, Guillermo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, as if his body were preparing for an argument. “Beer?” he asked, unimpressed. 

“Not just any beer,” said Topher proudly, pointing to a logo on the case that looked as if it had been Sharpied on. “You are looking at the first official batch of Doze Apples Hard Cider, fresh from the brewery and ready for taste testing.” 

“That’s great, Topher,” Guillermo said, swirling the blood-soaked scrub brush around in the solution before taking it back out, dripping pink. He smacked it down onto the floor and began scrubbing again with renewed vigor, setting what he hoped was an example for the other familiar to follow.

“Yeah, so, why don’t you take a break from whatever it is you’re doing and come crack open a couple of these bad boys with me?”

Guillermo took a forcibly patient breath. “Gee, I’d love to, Topher, but I really can’t.”

“Why not?” asked Topher, taking a small step into the cell. He nudged Guillermo’s bucket with the toe of one of his designer shoes; _Yeezy Boosts,_ Topher had called them.

"I just don't think it would be professional," Guillermo replied, using his forearm to nudge his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I mean, technically we’re on the job.”

“So?” 

“So, don’t you think Nadja and Laszlo would be upset if they came home and found you drunk?”

“No,” Topher said with a snort, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Besides, they don’t have to find out. They won’t be back till morning. Plenty of time to hide the bottles, if it really worries you,” he leered.

“Yeah, but, don’t you think the whole idea of having to _hide_ anything from your masters is a _little_ —”

“Oh, come on. Hypocrite much?” Topher asked, and Guillermo felt his stomach turn over at the insinuation. “One drink, that’s all I’m asking. You’re the only other person in the house who can try one, and I need to bring some first impressions back to my team first thing in the morning.” 

Guillermo sighed and put his scrub brush back in the bucket. “I just think—”

“Come on, just one.”

“I really—”

“One drink, just to taste test. That’s all I ask. Look, I’ll even finish cleaning the cell for you after we're done. Pretty please?” Topher’s eyes glittered as he pulled the most pathetic, irritating puppy dog face Guillermo had ever seen in his life. 

His scalp prickled with irritation. They were wasting more time arguing about it than it would take for Guillermo to have one drink and be done with it. Better to just get the whole thing over with. “Fine,” Guillermo sighed, standing up and yanking his gloves off with a snap. “One drink and _that’s it.”_

___

An hour later, Guillermo found himself well and truly drunk on the fancy room sofa, nestled in beside Topher and laughing about nothing. Somehow, they had managed to split the entirety of the six pack between them in less time than it would have taken for Guillermo to finish cleaning the cell. 

The cider was not good. Guillermo didn’t know much about alcohol, but he was pretty sure Doze Apples Hard Cider was just watery beer with sour apple flavoring mixed in. Still, Topher had been very encouraging, and after the first one, the taste had started to grow on him, until the second and third had disappeared down the hatch without his noticing. 

“You know, these are actually really good,” Guillermo said, waving a hand toward the empty bottles on the table. “Like, _really good.”_

“Really?” Topher rolled his neck around on the back of the sofa to look at him, his flushed cheeks lifted in a smile. “You mean that?”

“Yeah dude,” Guillermo said, imbuing his voice with the sort of enthusiasm only a drunk could muster. “Yeah. I think this thing is really gonna take off for you. I could totally see it in like, bars and grocery stores and stuff.” 

“Thanks man,” said Topher, draining the last of his bottle in one swig. He set it down on the table in front of them, only for it to immediately topple over. Guillermo leaned forward and quickly set it back up, grateful even in his addled state that it hadn’t spilled onto the antique wood. “You know, you’re a good guy, Guillermo,” Topher said, slapping an affectionate hand onto Guillermo’s thigh. “I mean it. If it wasn’t for you, I don't know if I could have handled this whole familiar thing.”

Guillermo blinked as Topher’s words slowly sunk in. “Wow, that’s really nice of you to say, Topher,” he managed, feeling just a little bit validated by the praise. 

“It’s just a lot you know," Topher continued, "being a small business owner with all these side hustles. I’ve got the whole familiar thing here, the social media consultant gig, DJing on the weekends—I juggle a lot in my day to day life. I love it and I wouldn’t have it any other way, but sometimes I just wish I could turn the Bluetooth _off,_ you know?”

Guillermo didn’t know, but he wasn’t paying that close of attention. Topher’s hand had moved a few inches higher up Guillermo’s thigh during his speech, and his thumb was now rubbing back and forth across his inseam. Guillermo spread his legs unconsciously, inviting the touch further. 

“I’m sure you can understand,” Topher continued, his voice low and soft. “I mean, you work pretty hard too, don’t you? I know you do. You’re so _uptight.”_ Guillermo’s gaze sharpened, and Topher backpedaled quickly, squeezing the meat of Guillermo’s thigh in his hand. “Not in a bad way! It’s totally a compliment. Just—don’t you ever wish you could unwind a little? Drink a little beer, relieve some _tension?”_

Topher’s hand was now fully covering Guillermo’s crotch, his fingertips pressing and massaging inward. In the seconds it took for Guillermo to register that fact, Topher had reached over and grabbed Guillermo’s hand in his, dragging it until his hand rested on the obvious bulge in Topher’s lap.

Guillermo froze, neither drawing his hand away nor moving a muscle. This was what he thought it was, right? There was no way he could be misinterpreting this. After all, Topher’s hard dick was right under the palm of his hand and vice versa. 

Guillermo swallowed hard and darted an anxious glance toward the open door of the fancy room. Topher was, without a doubt, one of the douchiest guys he’d ever met, but at that moment his brain and his dick didn’t really seem to care. _Curse that Doze Apples Hard Cider._

“A-are you sure?" Guillermo whispered, his voice quivering slightly. "I mean, I want to, it’s just I didn’t think you were, like, gay or bi or anything.”

“I don’t do the whole ‘labels’ thing,” Topher said breezily, slowly palming Guillermo through his khakis. “I just do what feels right in the moment. Honestly, me and my buddies do this sort of shit all the time. It’s no big deal.”

“Right,” Guillermo agreed, even as his heart hammered under his rib cage. “No big deal.” 

Truthfully, Guillermo envied that sort of confidence. He’d spent the last ten years or more mentally flagellating himself for his sexuality, without ever having ventured out into the world to explore it. At least now, after this encounter, he’d finally have something to punish himself for.

Scooting closer across the couch, Topher fumbled with Guillermo’s zipper, and Guillermo mirrored him, carefully dragging it down and reaching inside the open fly of Topher’s blue jeans. His fingers were met immediately with hot, hard flesh, and Guillermo withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned. 

“Oh!” Guillermo gasped. “You don’t, um, wear u-underwear…?” 

“Nah, too constricting. I prefer to freeball it,” Topher said, deftly fishing Guillermo’s erection out of the confines of his briefs and gripping it in his fist. He whistled appreciatively. “Damn dude, you’ve got a fat cock.”

 _“Ah,”_ Guillermo groaned, his hips bucking upwards at the crude compliment. No other person had ever seen it before, let alone held it or complimented it. “Y-you think so?”

“Yeah man,” Topher enthused with a grin, pumping his hand experimentally along Guillermo’s shaft. “You ever fuck anyone with this thing?”

Guillermo shook his head, a dark blush creeping over his face and neck. He tried to focus back on the matter at hand, and at last succeeded in freeing Topher’s erection from his jeans, careful not to snag the sensitive skin on the zipper. 

“I bet I could take it,” Topher said, spreading his legs wider and arching into Guillermo’s touch. “Bet I could fit the whole thing in my mouth right now, if I wanted.”

Guillermo’s cock jerked at that, and Topher laughed as he squeezed his fingers around the base, staving him off. Guillermo was close already, precum leaking from his tip, but he attempted to pull back from that edge for courtesy’s sake, as well as to save his own reputation; he had the sneaking suspicion Topher would never let him live down a premature ejaculation.

To his credit, Topher was good with his hands. Guillermo tried to mimic his movements at first, twisting and stroking his fist in an approximation of the other man’s technique, until Topher withdrew his hand for a brief moment to spit into his palm. _That,_ Guillermo thought hazily, _was disgusting,_ though the slippery friction it created when Topher’s touch returned was enough to almost make him come. Guillermo tried to make up for his lack of spit-slick by increasing the tempo of his fist, working Topher’s cock in short, quick bursts.

“That’s it,” Topher said encouragingly, letting his head fall back against the sofa. Guillermo could smell the beer on his breath. “Harder. Don’t go so far down, stay up toward the top. There you go.”

Guillermo registered a slight flicker of irritation; Topher couldn’t resist the urge to play at being the boss even in a situation such as this. Deep down Guillermo appreciated the instruction, though that didn’t make him resent Topher any less. 

“You ever done this before?” Topher asked, his eyes glinting with unspoken amusement. 

Guillermo felt a hot rush of shame and proceeded to jerk his fist harder. “Yes, I’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“On someone other than yourself?” 

Guillermo stopped abruptly, tightening his grip. No matter how desperate he might have been to have done this in the first place, he did _not_ have to take this kind of abuse—certainly not from _Topher._ “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

Topher shook his head, grinning as he continued to stroke Guillermo’s thick cock in his fist. 

“Then stop fucking complaining,” Guillermo said, resuming his work with a scowl. “I’m drunk, alright? And it’s been awhile. I’m not up to my usual standard.” 

“Whatever you say, G-Money,” Topher said, lifting his hips in time with Guillermo’s movements. Guillermo attempted to tune him out, changing tactics so that he was stroking Topher the same way he preferred to stroke himself; quick and light with a thumb flick across the top. Topher groaned loudly in his throat, and Guillermo cast yet another nervous glance toward the fancy room door, paranoid that at any moment someone would walk in and catch them in the act. 

Topher apparently couldn’t give less of a shit. Within minutes he was breathing hard, face flushed and slightly sweaty. “Fuck, dude, are you close?” Topher gasped, catching Guillermo’s eye as his chest heaved rapidly up and down. 

Guillermo had to think about it. He'd been concentrating so hard on outdoing Topher that his own pleasure had taken a backseat. "Sort of," Guillermo hissed at length, his voice low and tight. "Keep going." A coiling, tingling warmth was slowly building in his gut, and he redoubled his own efforts as Topher did the same. 

Guillermo attempted to block out everything else around him; his anxiety over being caught, his dislike of Topher and his embarrassment for doing this with him in the first place, focusing solely on the heat in his groin. Beside him, Topher was panting hard, his face screwed up and bright pink. He threw his head back against the couch and drew in a shuddering gasp as Guillermo swiped a drop of precum across the head of his dick. 

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” Topher groaned, and he yanked his shirt up over his belly just as the first few ropes shot out of him. Guillermo wasn’t far behind, and he allowed the sight and sounds of the other man’s orgasm to bring him closer as he milked Topher of every last drop. 

Within a few seconds, Topher’s grip on Guillermo’s cock weakened and fell away as he attempted to catch his breath. Teetering on the brink of orgasm, Guillermo brought his own fist to his dick, still coated in Topher’s cum, and began to jerk himself off with it in swift, rhythmic strokes. He was close, so close, any second now he was going to come, and he raked his sweater up in preparation, just as—

“GUILLERMO!”

The front door banged open and Nandor’s voice boomed out from the foyer. Guillermo strangled a sob in his throat and immediately fumbled to tuck his slippery erection away, zipping his fly and tugging the hem of his sweater down over the bulge. Beside him, Topher did the same, though practically at a snail’s pace in comparison.

“Hurry up!” Guillermo hissed, just as Nandor, Nadja and Laszlo rounded the corner into the fancy room. 

“Hurry what up?” Nadja asked, casting an eye between the two of them. She wrinkled her nose. “What have you boys been doing in here?” 

“Um—” Guillermo’s heart was still beating rapidly in his chest, his cock throbbing where it rested hot and heavy against his thigh. He snuck a glance at his master’s face before rapidly looking away again, a deep, dark well of shame rising up within him. 

“Guillermo here offered to taste test some beers with me,” Topher piped up, completely at ease. Guillermo shot him a look; ‘offered’ wouldn’t exactly have been the word he’d have chosen. “We just wanted to hurry up and finish the six pack before you guys got home. We knew you couldn’t partake and didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“Oh, wow, Tophie that is so thoughtful,” Nadja said, a simpering smile spreading her red lips. 

“It _is_ thoughtful,” Laszlo agreed, “and fitting, too, since we are _also_ drunk.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nandor said petulantly, throwing the couple a reproachful look. “I bit five people tonight and not one of them had a drop of alcohol in their blood.”

“Well, then, it looks like you’re the odd man out,” Nadja cackled, hanging off her husband’s arm. “Since apparently the rest of us all have shit on our face!”

“Shitfaced,” Guillermo muttered under his breath. "You're all shitfaced."

Nandor scowled. “Guillermo isn’t drunk,” he said matter-of-factly, waving a hand toward his familiar across the room. “Are you Guillermo?” 

“No, Master,” Guillermo lied, hopping unsteadily to his feet. He wiped his sticky hand on the back of his sweater. “Do you need me?”

“Yes. I would like to retire now,” Nandor said, jerking his head in the direction of the hallway. “I’ve had enough of these two perverts for one evening.” 

“I resent that,” Laszlo called as Nandor swirled from the room. 

Guillermo hastily took off after him, his clasped hands positioned strategically in front of his lap. Despite the shame, the fear, and the anger that all warred within him, his erection simply would not flag. He was going to have to put his master to bed while drunk—was going to have to undress his body and brush his hair and hold his hand with a raging hard-on in his pants. It was like something out of one of his most twisted, self-punishing fantasies—or a nightmare. The only thing that could possibly make it worse was if Nandor were to notice.

With that thought, Guillermo paused in the hallway to discreetly tuck his erection up into his waistband, hoping against hope that it would be enough to hide it. This may have felt like one of his dreams come to life, but he was fairly certain that the Nandor of this reality would not respond as favorably to the sight of his cock as dream Nandor would.

___

Later that morning, when Guillermo had finally finished cleaning the cell that Topher had promised to clean himself, he returned to his bedroom under the staircase and flopped down on his rickety old mattress. A multitude of emotions swirled within him, but at that precise moment he felt far too exhausted to concentrate on any one of them. He desperately needed to sleep.

Stifling a yawn, Guillermo checked his phone to make sure his alarm was set, and was surprised to find a text message from an unknown number waiting for him.

 _I can't believe I popped ur cherry,_ the text read, followed by a number of eggplant and tear drop emojis.

Guillermo grit his teeth. _"Asshole,"_ he muttered under his breath, before taking a deep breath and typing back:

_How the hell did you get this number?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments appreciated.


End file.
